


Balancing Act

by blackcoffeeandteardrops



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst with a hint of hope, F/M, Post-Break Up, The X-Files Revival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27750067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackcoffeeandteardrops/pseuds/blackcoffeeandteardrops
Summary: A chance meeting sparks conversation between Mulder and Scully. Pre-Revival break up era.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	Balancing Act

**Author's Note:**

> It has been far, far, FAR too long since I've posted fic of any kind, let alone XF related fic. Earlier this year, Taylor Swift released her album Folklore, which includes the song "Exile", & I have been kicking this fic around in my head ever since. I know it isn't much (still shaking the cobwebs off), but thanks to those who periodically have talked fic with me over the past year or so. I don't have a posting schedule or anything like that, and this isn't exactly what I thought I'd write--anyone who knows me knows how I feel about the Mulder/Scully breakup--but if they had to go there, it only seems right that I peel back the layers and make them feel it a little bit.
> 
> Anyway, time to get on with it. As always, thanks a ton for reading. It's much appreciated!

Mulder hadn't planned on stepping into the restaurant; he'd been on his way back out of the city when he felt the tell tale rumble in his stomach that suggested he'd better stop for food before heading back to the house. The idea of putting in a to go order sounded better than yet another stop at the grocery store before making the trek home. He sits on the stool closest to the door, sipping on a pint, peeling at a napkin as he waits for his order. Suddenly, a laugh permeates the room, sucking all the air from his lungs. 

Flashes of warm skin, of Sunday drives, & of tasting the berries they picked still warm on her lips burst through his mind in quick succession. Quiet moments, telling her the dumbest joke he could think of, and then watching as lines formed around her eyes, delighting in the way she tilted her head back and laughed. It's been nearly six months since he's seen her, and probably twice as long since he's heard that wonderful, beautiful sound.

In the mirror over the bar he sees her, hair shorter and a darker shade of red than when he'd seen her last. Instinctively, he tucks into his drink, rounding his shoulders, unsure of whether or not he wants to be seen. It takes a second to realize there's a man standing a little too close for his liking to her side. With a tailored jacket and wire rimmed glasses, there's no doubt in his mind that this mystery man must be a doctor she works with at the hospital, or something of the like. Jealousy flares through him, hot and heady, and if the glass he's holding wasn't sturdy, it surely would've cracked. He draws a breath through his nostrils and cringes as he hears the man tell her they need to ask for a table, and he glances up into the mirror, watching her reflection as he overhears her tell the man this place is seat yourself.

He taps the screen on his phone, one she'd bought for him once she started working again, in case they needed to get in touch. It's been several minutes since he placed his order, but his food can't come soon enough. Instinctively, he curls his shoulders inward once more, making every effort to make himself as small as possible. If he just stays still, maybe she'll sit down and be too wrapped up in her date to notice him.

Scully sidles up to the bar a few stools away from him instead, one lone patron blocking her view of him but if she so much as turns her head he's certain she'll notice him. She orders drinks for herself and her date--Mulder's jaw clenches at the thought--and drums her fingertips against the worn wood as she waits.

The door to the kitchen opens and a server comes into view, takeout bag in hand, and even though he's hungry, Mulder can't help hoping it's for someone else. If they say his name, she'll have no choice but to acknowledge him. 

"Here you go, sir," the waiter says, clueless to Mulder's internal battle as he hands over the bag of food. The guy, fresh faced with a smile gleaming with braces, can't be much older than twenty one, means well, so Mulder can't be that mad at him. 

"Thanks, man. Have a good night," he replies, sliding off his stool and making quickly for the door. He doesn't have to look back to know her eyes are on him.

"Mulder?" her voice rings through the room, even as he gets closer to the exit. "Mulder, wait!"

He grinds to a halt just outside the door, drawing a deep breath before turning to face her. "Hey, Scully. Fancy meeting you here."

"Mulder," Scully says, slowly drawing his name out as she lets the door shut behind her. She casts a glance back through the glass, perhaps in search of the man she came with, before turning her focus back to him. Her cheeks are already turning pink from the cold, her breath coming out in tiny white wisps, as she rocks back on her heels and shoves her hands into the pockets of her coat. "You were going to leave without saying hello?"

He considers lying, saying he didn't see her, but shrugs his shoulder and lets out a self deprecating laugh instead. "You seemed a bit preoccupied. I don't want to keep you from your date, Scully, and I can tell you're cold. You better get back inside."

Scully reaches an arm out instinctively as he moves away from her, desperate to keep him in place. When he moves just out of her grasp, it's enough to make her wince, even though she knows she's earned it. "It's not…" she trails off, tongue darting out to moisten her parched lips. She clears her throat as she tucks a tendril of hair behind her ear. "How have you been?"

Mulder laughs, biting the inside of his cheek just soft enough that he doesn't draw blood, and he fights against the urge to say things he knows he'll regret. "Good. You seem to be doing well."

"I am," Scully assures him, nodding slowly. She shivers as the icy wind cuts through the thin fabric of her shirt, but try as she might, she can't bring herself to say goodbye to him just yet. She points to her face and smiles sadly. "You shaved."

"I did. Part of my reintegration into normal society involves not looking like a caveman," he says, rubbing the slightest hint of stubble that's grown since his last shave.

"You seem…" she trails off again, eyeing him up and down, trying and failing to find the right words. "Different," she continues, her eyes lighting up. She blinks away the tears she feels threatening to pool in her eyes. The image of him, curled like a comma, hair overgrown and refusing to leave the house, is seared into her brain. She glances down, suddenly desperate to break his gaze, and the bandage wrapped around the hand not holding his takeout food catches her by surprise almost as much as the breath that hitches in her chest when she sees it.

Mulder catches onto her line of sight and sighs. "I was fixing the fence around the old chicken coop. The wire got a little bit closer to me than I'd have liked. The doctor's going to take the stitches out in a few days, but I should be good."

A complaint about him not telling her he's been hurt claws its way up her throat, begging to be set free, but she coughs, suppressing the urge to set it free.

"I'm seeing someone," Mulder says, spilling the words out before he can fully realize he's even said them. He almost leaves it at that, leaves Scully with her mouth hanging ajar and eyes shining with unmasked surprise. Considering the way she'd been the one to leave, he kind of feels like she's earned it. Still, his hands ache to reach out and anchor her in place when she takes a step back from him.

"Well," she says, ducking her head, suddenly desperate for air despite the fact they're outside. "That's--"

"The therapist you recommended. I had an appointment earlier, that's why I'm in town. That, and I had a particular craving for this place, so I decided to stop by before heading home," he says, not missing the relief that washes over her face when he offers up the explanation.

"Mulder, that's good. I'm happy for you, really, I am," she says, wanting him to know how deeply she means it.

The stilted nature of their conversation has him on edge, but like a moth to a flame he can't draw himself away. Still, the fact she's here with another man, at a restaurant he introduced her to, does not go unnoticed, and the longer they stand there he knows it can't go unaddressed. "It appears you're seeing someone as well. Maybe not in as much of a professional setting though. But hey, Scully, you said when you left that you needed to do what was best for you. I get it."

"It's not--" she says, but before she can finish she hears the sound of the door opening behind them.

"Dana, I'm sorry to interrupt, but the waitress has already been by our table twice. She wants to know if we're ready to order?"

"I'll be there in just a second," she says, plastering on a smile she hopes is convincing. By the time she turns around, Mulder has already jogged over to his car. "Mulder, wait," she calls, hurrying after him, only half surprised when he listens and stops walking. "He's interviewing me about the research I'm performing at the hospital. This dinner is purely professional."

“Right,” Mulder replies, nodding his head as he fishes his keys from his pocket. “Sunset’s soon. I’m going to go while I still can,” he gestures to his eyes, letting out a self deprecating laugh. “I’m using those readers you bought me, but I’m starting to think they’re not enough.”

Scully nods, and though she’s mere inches from him--close enough to smell his cologne, close enough to reach out and touch him--the distance feels much more than that. If she were to turn her head, she’s sure she’d see the eyes of her technically not a date staring back, but she can’t tear away just yet. Seeing Mulder again has caused her head to spin and her heart to flutter in a way that it hasn’t in a long time, even if she knows she’s the one who chose to leave. She shakes her head, willing to cool evening air to bring her to her senses. “Mulder?”

He stops, driver’s door of his car open, staring back at her. “Hmm?” he says, choking back a quip about missing him already before it has the chance to pass through his lips. He wants to be angry at her, feels like a part of him still is, but the longer he stands there in the same place as her, the more he feels that ebb away. 

Scully opens her mouth and closes it again, offering up a meger smile, and she realizes she hadn’t actually thought through what she’d planned to say. Still, he has a home--their home, even though she’s not there anymore--to get to, and she has to give an interview. “It was good to see you. Drive safe.”

There’s a glimmer of hope in her eyes, but for what, Mulder isn’t sure. He’s doing better now, working on himself just like she asked, which is more than he can say for himself than the last time they saw each other. He coughs, clearing his throat, desperate to not allow his mind to go there. Neither of them would benefit if he did. It’s only been a few seconds since she’s spoken, but he knows the longer he waits to say something the more pronounced all the unasked questions in their relationship will hang heavy in the air. “See you around, Scully,” he says, waving as he gets into the car, waiting until she backs away from the curb to put the car into drive. He looks in the rear-view mirror, watching as she moves back to the restaurant, his words to her sitting there in the car with him. More than anything he’s said recently, he wants them to be true.


End file.
